


i got it bad (but it feels so good)

by intrepidment



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: F/M, Idiots in Love, Romance, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-05 19:21:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11584527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intrepidment/pseuds/intrepidment
Summary: The first time she kissed him, it's a joke. Michelle knows that it's Peter under the mask. He was supposed to reveal his identity to her.Instead, he kissed her back.





	1. Chapter 1

-

-

 _Ask anyone, and they'll tell you this: Peter Parker is trouble, and Spider-Man saves the day._ _Both topics are unrelated._

_Michelle Jones knows otherwise._

-

-

"I have the situation handled," Michelle said. One of the men on the ground let out out a groan and made a move to grab her ankle. With a sigh, she reached into her bag, pulled out her pepper-spray, and calmly proceeded to empty the can on him. 

The scream of pain was gratifying to say the least. Once the sound became a little too grating, she landed one final kick to his solar plexus and he rolled over, finally knocked out. 

Peter - or Spider-Man,  _what the hell was she supposed to call him in this scenario?_  - looked annoyed. At least, she imagined he did under the mask.

It was hard to tell. 

"Really?" he said sarcastically, "Because it looked to me like you needed help."

"An impairment of your vision, no doubt. You probably need bigger eye holes for that thing." Michelle sauntered out of the alleyway and continued on what was her usual route home until she was rudely interrupted by the group of muggers. 

Of course, Peter followed her. 'Trust me, M-Miss, I can see just fine. "

Michelle's left eye twitched.

Here's the thing: Michelle Jones was perfectly aware that Peter Parker was Spider-Man. She had been for a while now. Two years, in fact.

It wasn't hard to figure out who Peter was what with the continual skipping of decathlon meetings and classes, accompanied by piss poor excuses that would only fool a complete moron. Or someone who didn't observe Peter as closely as she did. Also Ned and Peter had a habit of talking about the latter's, ah,  _extracurricular_ after-school activities when she was only two feet away from them.

Honestly, it was only through pure luck that the whole school hadn't figured it out already. 

So yes, she knew that Parker was Spider-Man. Once they became friends - or something resembling the term thereof - she thought he would eventually bring up the whole topic of moonlighting as a red and blue tights clad hero, but he hadn't.

It was beginning to bother her.

There was only so many shitty excuses she could take. Last week, he told her that the bruise on his face was the result of a sledding accident. 

 _Sledding._ It was summer. 

Suffice to say, enough was enough.

"Miss?" Michelle said, cloyingly sweet. "Are you sure you weren't about to call me something else? Like,  _my name_?"

Peter tripped over his feet.

Not for the first time, Michelle found it difficult to reconcile the hero who had helped prevent the Earth from complete annihilation by aliens with the boy before her. 

"How-how would I know your name?" he asked weakly after an uncomfortable amount of time had passed. "We'd only just met."

Michelle rolled her eyes. 

"Actually, we met when you saved my classmates from dying in the elevator at the Washington Monument."

"Um, yes, that's-"

"Also, you were there when the school was set on fire and everybody was locked inside."

"Oh, well-"

"Not to mention you rescued me the time the academic decathlon was kidnapped by that weird scorpio dude."

"Right," Peter said, peering upwards towards the night sky as if hoping for a divine figure to provide answers. Or strike him on the spot. "Right. I guess we've met a few times already."

"Just a few," she said flatly. "It's a wonder you wouldn't know my name already. It's Michelle, by the way. Would you like me to spell it out for you? In case you forget?"

"I think I can manage. I...actually know a girl called Michelle."

 _This_ , Michelle thought, was the perfect moment for him to unveil his identity to her and she would respond in kind by feigning surprise and gasping for added dramatic effect.

Unfortunately, it seemed that Peter had missed that particular memo entirely.

"And?" Michelle prodded when Peter offered nothing else. "What would the Michelle you know do if you were oh-so-rude enough to not even remember her after meeting in less than predictable circumstances?"

"Punch me probably," Peter joked.  

It was taking an extraordinarily high amount of self control to not take that as an offer to do so. One of her hands actually unconsciously half-raised itself at the thought, but at the last moment she caught hold of herself and lowered it to rest on his shoulder instead.

Peter jerked in surprise, but didn't pull away. 

For a moment, Michelle simply stared at him. Underneath that mask was Peter Parker. She knew it was him. It didn't matter if he tried to change the tone of his voice or his posture- she could recognise him anywhere.

She tried not to dwell on the implications of that statement.

It would be easy, so easy, to just reach up and unmask him. She could imagine it now.  _Enough_ , she would say,  _I know it's you, Peter._ And that would be that. He would have no other choice. 

No more crappy excuses. 

Except she wanted  _him_ to tell her. It wasn't the same if she forced the truth out of him. There was something inside her that wanted -  _needed_ \- him to say the words. _Michelle, it's me. I_ _'m Spider-Man._  

That's all she wanted him to say.

Her fingers brushed his jawline and she felt him shiver under her touch. Michelle felt an unfamiliar sort of electricity surge through her. She'd never had this sort of effect on anyone before. She was always too tomboyish, too sarcastic, too strange-

Too  _Michelle._

But Peter never seemed to mind. In fact lately, lately, she thought he could-

Her thumb snagged underneath the edge of his mask. She pressed, hard, at the curve of his jaw and drew up the mask so it revealed more of his face. In the background, the sound of traffic blared around them; loud and ugly. 

Neither of them spoke. She was probably breathing a bit too loudly, but then again, so was he.

The mask moved up another inch. She could see his mouth now; the way it was set in one straight line and no longer smiling. His hand reached out and gripped the wrist that was holding onto the mask.

"Michelle." 

"Tell me who you are, Spider-Man." she whispered, waiting, knowing. 

"Michelle," he repeated. There was a rasp in his voice. "I can't."

She kissed him. 

Later, she would rationalize it as a joke, a provocation- her own personal Fuck You to the Hollywood cliché.

(But that was later.) 

Michelle felt more than heard him grunt in surprise. She expected him to push her away in embarrassment - or terror, maybe - and yell surprise, it was him, Peter Parker! And she would laugh, and perhaps pat his head condescendingly as she told him that she knew all along. 

But instead, he pulled her towards him, fingers digging into her waist. His lips was warm, pliant, and she opened her mouth in a pleased half-sigh. The kiss was slow, patient, as if it wasn't 10pm at night and school wasn't waiting for them both tomorrow. The action was so unexpected of Peter that she almost believed it was someone else under the mask, except she could smell the sharp scent of the deodorant he used after gym and the candy he always chewed when he was anxious.  

Eventually, when the question of air became an issue, she drew away from him. His cheeks and mouth were flushed red, and she doubted her own fared any better. She could see the faint pink stain of her lip balm on his lips.

At some point, she had flung her arms around his neck. Michelle let go of him now, taking a careful, measured step back as she did so.

"What-" Peter began. His voice was hoarse and it made Michelle feel strangely warm. "What was that for?"

Panicking and with a type of quick thinking she didn't even realised she possessed, Michelle replied quickly, "A thank you. For helping me back there." She hesitated. "I hope one day you'll tell me who you are."

And then she ran.

-

-

_Ask Michelle Jones and she'll tell you this: Spider-Man might save the day, but both Peter Parker and him are more trouble than they're worth._

_-_

_-_


	2. Chapter 2

One of the many pitfalls of the 21st century was the invention of cameras on cell phones.

Michelle promptly came to this realisation when she tuned into the local news and found herself leading as the top headline.

 _Local Girl Caught in Love Web of Spider-Man._  

Needless to say, she didn’t drink much tea that morning since most of its contents ended up sprayed all over the kitchen table or up her nose.

Lovely. 

The video quality was poor, but anyone who knew her (few people as it were) would undoubtedly recognise who it was if they saw it.

“Michelle, have you seen my-”

Michelle lunged over the table and grabbed the remote control, switching the TV off just as her mother reached the bottom of the staircase.

“-car keys?” she finished. She gave Michelle a bemused once-over. “Honey, are you feeling alright?”

“Me?” Michelle asked as she grabbed a handful of tissues to wipe the table down with. “Oh, I’m great. Fantastic. Jolly good. Never better.”

Judging by the way her mother stared at her, the maniacally wide smile on her face did nothing to appease her.

-

-

Michelle usually found school tedious and restrictive both in its environment and general academic curriculum, but today the feeling was doubled knowing that she and Spider-Man were all everyone was talking about.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Spider-Man’s  _loverrrrrrr_ ,” Flash declared complete with a flourish of kissy noises when she walked into homeroom. 

Michelle offered him the usual one-fingered salute reserved for him as she slid into her seat, pointedly ignoring Ned’s slack jawed stare next to her.

In the minutes it took for the teacher to arrive, Michelle frantically scribbled out her three point plan for the day. It was a work in progress, but this was what she had so far:

  1. Don’t look at Peter Parker.
  2. Don’t talk to Peter Parker.
  3. Parker. No. BAD MICHELLE.



Like she said, it's a work in progress. 

"Uh, hey MJ."

Michelle quickly scrunched up the paper in her fist and shoved it in her bag underneath the books she had to read in her spare time.

In front of her, Peter had his thumbs nervously hooked on the straps of his backpack as he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. To say that it was embarrassing just looking at him would be an understatement of the century; the boy was practically  _radiating_ awkward vibes to anyone within his breathing vicinity. 

"Parker," she said curtly.  _So much for the plan_. She couldn't quite meet him in the eye, so she settled for staring at his nose instead.

As far as noses went, she decided, it was a nice nose. Very angular. 

Great. All it took was one - _admittedly_ passable - kiss and she'd already lost her goddamn mind. 

Peter scratched the back of his neck and licked his dry lips, which only made Michelle scowl because now she  _knew_ what they felt like on her own and those were the type of thoughts that really had no place here. "So, how's your day? Morning, by the way. I should've started with that. Are you ready? For school, I mean," Peter said quickly, backtracking. "Are you feeling healthy? Because that's good. Health."

"Smooth," she heard Ned cough under his breath. 

Michelle sighed. "Well, it's all over the news and school, so I guess it's no use hiding it from you."

She paused, considering her next words.

"I had sex with Spider-Man."

The sight of the blood draining away from Peter's face and Ned's horrified sputters not unlike the sounds one would make at the thought of their parents doing the horizontal tango were probably going to be her only source of entertainment for the day.

She decided to milk it for all it was worth. Nothing was going to recover the brain cells she lost knowing that she was now a topic of interest for TMZ.  _Nothing._

"No fucking way-hang on a sec, you  _what?_ " Ned yelped. He swung his gaze to Peter and pointed an accusing finger at him. "Dude.  _Dude._ But you said-"

"Ned," Peter warned, with a purposeful head flicking motion towards Michelle. Ned fell silent. Or went comatose. Either way, Peter turned back to her. "Michelle, I know you didn't," here he gave paranoid glance around him before lowering his voice, " _sleep_ with Spider-Man."

"How would you know?" Michelle retorted. "Do you have some sort of  _spidey sense_ I don't know about?"

Ned and Peter shared a not-so-inconspicuous look.

For their sake, Michelle pretended not to notice. One of these days, she really needed an award for putting up with their bullshit.

Both boys had the subtlety of a tiptoeing herd of elephants. A commendable attempt, but ultimately useless.

"Look, call it what you want but I know you guys only kissed," Peter mumbled. He peered at her from underneath his lashes. "Why _did_ you kiss him, anyway?"

Despite the fact that she still wasn't anywhere near comfortable with the fiasco she'd gotten herself into, Michelle couldn't help but tease him a bit. She leaned forward and rested her chin on her now-clasped hands, looking at him with the most benevolent smile she could muster under short notice.

"Do you really want to know?" 

"I do."

" _Really_?" Michelle waggled her eyebrows suggestively at him.  

The expression on Peter's face could only be described as a mixture of frustration and fondness. It was a look that she had long realised was almost always exclusively associated with her- the Michelle Look, she liked to dub it on occasion. "Really _._ "

Ned let out a groan. "Get a room."

They both ignored him. 

Without warning, Michelle reached out and flicked his forehead gently with her index finger.

Peter affected a wounded puppy dog look. 

Not cute, Michelle reminded herself.

Definitely not cute.  

"Unfortunately," she quipped, "that's the sort of information I'm only willing to divulge to the Spider guy himself."

The pout Peter was unable to quash was easy to translate: But  _I'm_ Spider-Man, he clearly wanted to say. 

Michelle hid her smile. What was she supposed to do?

After all, as far as they were concerned, she had no idea who was under the Spider-Man mask.

Oh well. 

His loss.

-

-

"Are you dating Spider-Man now?"

"God, Spider-Man is so  _cool_ , you're so lucky-"

"-long have you been together?"

"Do you think Spider-Man has a lair? Do you think he's a  _millionaire_?" 

At this, Ned snorted. Loudly.

"-seems really fit, what are his arms like?"

By the time they had their usual after-school decathlon meeting, Michelle was ready to explode. 

"Does anyone here have a question that's  _not_ related to Spider-Man?" she demanded.

There was a beat of silence. 

Cindy piqued up, "Is Spider-Man really as good of a kisser as he looked?"

Michelle glared at the other girl.

"What?" Cindy said defensively. "You looked like you really enjoyed it."

The tips of Peter's ears were so red, she wondered how it was possible they hadn't fallen off yet.

-

-

"Hey, MJ-"

"Shut it, Ned."

"Yes, Ma'am."

-

-

A week passed, and the gossip finally died down at school as other rumours with more popular kids took over. 

Peter didn't bring up the subject of The Kiss again, nor did she run into Spider-Man in the streets.

Michelle should've been pleased, but she wasn't.

Peter wasn't anywhere closer to telling her that he was Spider-Man and despite the fact that she gave him an opening for Spider-Man to ask her why she'd kissed him, he hadn't taken it. 

It was fine, though.

Really.

Even  _she_ didn't know why she'd kissed him.

Okay, that's not entirely true. Michelle did have  _some_  idea. Maybe she'd thought about kissing him once or twice (and maybe a few other times) - it was hard not to when he kept smiling at her in that affectionate way he always did, or that one time he gently brushed her hair away from her face when he thought she was sleeping, when in reality she was just resting her eyes - but the kiss that night was a spur-of-the moment thing.

Instinct. That's what it was.

Like breathing. Just instinct. 

She wanted him to 'fess up already, but maybe he would never tell her. 

Maybe she just wasn't as important to Peter as she hoped she was. 

The thought made her punch Peter's arm extra hard the next morning she saw him.

- 

- 

Another week went by. Still no Spider-Man. 

Michelle went back to sitting at the end of the table in the cafeteria. Peter and Ned kept giving her worried glances, trying to catch her attention.

She ignored them.

It was strange.

After being with the dweeb duo for so long, she forgot how lonely it felt being left with nothing but her thoughts.

-

-

"You're angry at me."

It's not a question. 

Michelle didn't look up from her homework. "I'm always angry at you."

Peter collapsed into the seat across from her with a loud  _thwak._ The librarian at the reception fixed him with a steely eyed glare, and he mouthed out a sheepish apology. 

A few minutes went by before he plucked the pen from her grip so Michelle had no choice but to look at him. "I don't like it when you're angry at me," Peter confessed. He held out his hand, palm up - an offer - and despite herself, she slipped her hand silently in his.

His thumb stroked her palm. His skin was surprisingly more calloused than she'd expected it to be.  

 _Unfair,_ Michelle thought desperately. It was unfair of him to look at her like that with his stupid brown eyes and expect her to play along. Every day she'd been trying not to think of him, but her notebook were full of sketches of his dumb face that said otherwise.

She missed him.

Missed  _them._

But the frustration was winning out. 

"Tell me what I did so I can fix it," he said quietly. Pleading, maybe. "It's not the same without you around."

"You don't trust me," Michelle whispered, and the words felt like an admission of weakness. These...moments she kept having with Peter lately - and Spider-Man, by default - was still something she had a hard time getting used to. She hated feeling this way- vulnerable; like a stitched wound threatening to burst open.

It scared her. Frightened her in a way she didn't want to admit. 

"Hey, that's not true," Peter said, alarmed. "MJ, you're one of my best friends, why would you ever think I don't trust you?"

"You don't trust me. Nobody trusts me." Her voice shook. "Spider-Man doesn't trust me."

"I trust you. You're one of the only people I  _do_ trust," he hesitated. "I have no doubt that Spider-Man trusts you too."

Michelle made a move to pull away, but he held onto her.

"How can you say he trusts me when he won't even tell me who he is," she said bitterly. 

A pause.

"I think," Peter started carefully, "that Spider-Man keeps his identity from you not because he doesn't trust you, but because he cares about you too much to see you hurt."

Michelle snorted. "I'm sure he's told other people who he is."

"And I'm sure he's seen them get hurt because it. The thought of you being hurt would probably kill him. Kill  _me_." He emphasised the last part with a deliberate squeeze of her hand.

There was a message there, hidden somewhere between his earnest gaze and warm touch, and maybe if she looked closely enough, she would be able to decipher it. 

But she didn't. 

Michelle looked away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got a semi-linear plot going on in my head now, so we'll see how the story goes.
> 
> Also at times I'll take liberties with certain details about Michelle and Peter because I've only seen the movie once (hopefully I'll see it again soon), and my memory is a sad, pitiful thing.


	3. Chapter 3

"So," Ned began, looking at both of them curiously, "does this mean we're all good again?"

"Is it just me or is the sight of me back here in Peter's home bringing tears to your eyes? Actually don't tell me- I'm not yet calibrated to view that level of human emotion."

Ned let out a huff, but remained silent. Waiting for her answer.

Underneath the dining table, Peter's foot nudged hers on purpose. Michelle nudged him back and - upon seeing his please-don't-disappoint-my-best-buddy expression - sighed. "Yes, we're good. Sorry mommy and daddy were fighting. Happy?"

Ned's expression was so relieved that Michelle suddenly felt a bit guilty for everything that had happened lately around him. The feeling lasted for about one-fifth of a second until Ned grinned smugly and went, "Mommy and daddy, eh?"

Michelle crinkled her nose at him in disgust. "It's an expression, doofus. Read the context. And don't project your weird sexual fetishes to me. My brain can only take so much."

At that, Peter laughed, and it almost felt like everything was normal again. There was still a bit of awkwardness lingering between them, but nothing that wouldn't disappear once they settled back into their regular pattern. This was the dynamic between them that she needed to maintain, Michelle told herself.

Who cared if Peter didn't tell her he was Spider-Man?

...Okay, so she did. She totally cared.

But if came at the risk of their friendship, she was willing to put a temporary pause on Operation Get Parker to Reveal Secret Identity.

For now, anyway.

"I'm really glad you're here," Peter told her. One arm was slung over the back of her seat as he faced her. 

Michelle thought about returning the sentiment but:

"You should be." 

Peter nudged her again - this time playfully - and stole a french fry even though he already had a perfectly acceptable amount of his own available to him. In retaliation, she kicked him not-so-gently back and squirted an ungodly amount of ketchup on his plate in the form of a frowny face for good measure.

Ned was oblivious to the silently ensuing war as he headed to the couch to check if there were any good programs to watch.

Peter kept his gaze glued on the TV screen that Ned was flicking through, occasionally letting out a  _hmmm_ and  _ahhhh_ at whatever was on, but a secretive grin was on his face as his leg pressed against hers. She could feel the heat emanating from his jeans-clad leg and resisted the urge to scoot closer.

A sound suspiciously close to a giggle threatened to escape her throat. She tamped it down by pinching herself in the arm. Hard.

"Ahem."

Michelle jumped in her seat at the polite cough, and turned to the entrance to see Aunt May looking in their direction in amusement. Oh god. She had a full view of them and it probably looked like they were playing footsie under the table without Ned's knowledge.

Which they weren't. Wait. Were they?

No. Of course not.

Maybe.

Michelle hoped she didn't look as guiltily confused as she felt right now. 

"Hi, boys," Aunt May greeted them, depositing the groceries she had cradled on her chest onto the table. A stray apple rolled off and fell onto the floor, but Peter's aunt ignored it. "And Michelle! It's been so long since I've seen your lovely face. I've missed having another female around- the testosterone in this apartment can get a bit much at times. Where have you been?"

"I've had a lot of schoolwork lately," Michelle answered with a forced casualness. "Need to maintain that perfect college transcript and all."

She was lying through her teeth, of course, but this didn't seem like the right time to confess that her nephew had been driving her to the brink of insanity lately, and she'd needed a break from him.

Maybe next time. Or not.

Aunt May picked off the remaining hamburger piece left on Peter's plate and sighed as she popped it in her mouth and chewed it with what could only be described as a mournful air. "See, Peter,  _that's_  the level of aspiration I dream of seeing from you at school."

"Sorry, Aunt May," Peter said solemnly, sighing. "Not all of us can be as amazing as Michelle." 

"Damn right, Parker. I'm a one of kind sort of girl."

"No arguments from me," Peter replied lightly.

Michelle bit her lip. What a  _dork._

"Ditto," Ned called out. "Although unlike him I don't-oh shit. Peter! I mean, everyone!"

The three of them swivelled around to look at Ned.

"What?"

"There's a hostage situation happening at that new supermarket that just opened up."

"Put the volume up," Peter said sharply. 

Without speaking, Ned did as he asked, and they all watched the news report unfold. 

"We can confirm that there are currently several people trapped inside-"

"...police are in the process of negotiating with the person in charge, however no deal has yet been-"

"-one of many incidents to occur in the last month..."

"-witnesses claim that the assailants used weapons of unknown technology to gain access..."

At the last remark, Michelle saw Peter curl his hand into a fist against his knee. His knuckles were white. "Shit," she heard him utter under his breath.

His eyes flickered towards his bedroom where his suit undoubtedly hid. 

Michelle decided to save Ned and Peter from going through the farce of trying to distract her while Spider-Man ostensibly leapt out the window behind her back, and took it as her cue to leave. She took out her phone and widened her eyes at the blank screen. 

"Huh, is that the time? I promised I would be home early tonight."

"Probably for the best," Peter said hurriedly. He gave an exaggerated yawn, stretching his arms. "I'm feeling pretty beat tonight."

Jesus. Acting was a career he needed to pass on.

"You should definitely get your beauty sleep," Michelle agreed wryly. "I can already see the dark circles peeking through."

"I'll walk you home," Ned offered, standing up, but Aunt May held out a hand.

"You boys clean up this mess. I'll give her a ride back."

"You don't have to," Michelle protested, looking at her in surprise, "I take this route all the time. It's honestly no big deal I-"

"Nonsense. It's no problem. Come on, now." 

Aunt May grabbed her car keys, and Michelle knew from one look at her that she wasn't going to take no as an answer.

-

-

Michelle slid into the car with a sense of foreboding doom.

Don't get her wrong: she liked Peter's aunt. Aunt May was cool. The coolest. But she was also Peter's guardian, and the one person who knew him better than anyone else.

The fact alone had always made her feel jittery in the older woman's presence.

She'd never admit it to anyone if they asked, but the first time she met Aunt May, she felt compelled to impress her, or at the very least, not have her realise how ungainly and socially inept she was. This quickly derailed with each passing visit to Peter's home, but even now, the urge to gain Aunt May's approval was still there.

Michelle wasn't Ned though. She was sure Aunt May didn't have anything against her, but she was also positive the woman was no doubt confused as to how Michelle was friends with them. She preferred reading to video games. She'd never watched Star Wars (a fact Ned and Peter bemoaned on a regular basis).

As far as Aunt May knew, the only thing they had in common was that they were in the academic decathlon together.

"How long have you known?"

She was cut off from her thoughts at Aunt May's sudden question. Michelle looked at Aunt May in shock.

Surely she didn't mean...

Oh.

She did.

Peter was right; his aunt really  _was_ a force of nature. "How did you know?"

Aunt May tapped her temple. "Woman's intuition."

Michelle continued to stare. 

"I caught you looking at the Spider-Man suit once when Peter was in the bathroom," Aunt May admitted. 

"Damn. I thought I was being stealthy."

"You were," she assured her. "But nothing quite beats someone who's raising a teenage boy."

Michelle leaned back, stunned. "No kidding."

"So. Back to my question. How long?"

"Pretty much since the beginning," Michelle said with a sigh. "Ned and Peter are terrible at trying to keep secrets."

"I figured as much. I found out by walking into Peter's bedroom to find him changing out of the suit."

" _Seriously?_ "

"Yep. Almost had a heart attack. I was in shock," Aunt May laughed. "Still am, if I'm honest. Why doesn't Peter know that you're aware that he's Spider-Man?"

Michelle shifted in her seat and stared resolutely out into the black darkness of the street ahead. "I want your nephew to tell me himself. Otherwise it feels like...cutting corners, somehow? I dunno. It's weird to explain. Maybe I should just tell him." 

"Maybe." Aunt May let out a hum. "I see the way you look at him."

There was no other way to interpret the innuendo in Aunt May's words. Michelle opened her mouth to deny it, but no words came out. It was if someone had tied up her tongue, rendering her speechless. So. This was it. This was the moment where she died. 

She briefly contemplated flinging herself out into open traffic. Surely, death would be more swift that way.

"You don't have to say anything," Aunt May said when Michelle remained quiet. "I'm just voicing my observations aloud. I don't blame you by the way- Peter's a great kid."

"Yes," Michelle whispered when she could finally find her voice again. "Yes, he is."

At a red light, Aunt May glanced at her briefly. Her eyes were soft. "He likes you too, you know."

The confirmation was terrifying and exhilarating, all at once. Michelle tried not to let her emotions show too clearly, but it was likely she failed. More than likely. 

"I know. Well, I suspected- like I said, he's terrible at keeping secrets but." Michelle closed her eyes. "It wouldn't work out. We're too- different. I can't date Spider-Man."

Aunt May shook her head.

"You wouldn't be. You'd be dating Peter."

"What's the difference?"

The car screeched to a halt.

Michelle hadn't even realised they'd reached her house.

Aunt May patted her knee kindly before waving her off. "Just think about it."

-

-

Michelle thought about it.

"Ridiculous," she told herself, splashing water on her face as she looked at her worn out reflection in the mirror.

What if they dated and realised that they had no chemistry and everything leading up to now had actually been misplaced tension? As much as she claimed otherwise, she couldn't afford to lose him.

Peter was one of her best friends.

Not to mention, he was also Spider-Man. Every day, he was in danger.

It already worried her to no end knowing that he was out there, saving people and getting hurt in the process. The feeling would be multiplied to outrageous degrees if they got together. She'd never stop worrying about him, and she refused to be a girl whose life revolved around their boyfriend. He would never intend for that to happen - of that, she had no doubt - but it was inevitable. She'd worry watching him on TV and in real-life swing across buildings at unimaginable distances; pull kids out from burning houses; rescue people from would-be murderers and tyrannical villains. 

He might have abilities that made him stronger, faster, and more intuitive than most, but she was one of the few who realised that he was still a teenager. Still a boy.

Heroes weren't invincible. They never had been.

This was something the world knew, all too well.

-

-

A few hours later, Michelle woke up to the sound of tapping noises.

She got out of bed and cautiously walked over to her window.

On the other side, Spider-Man raised his hand in a nervous half-wave.

Michelle opened the window, staring at him in disbelief. She hoped that his mask didn't have night vision because she wasn't wearing pants, but the wish was probably futile at this point. "Are superheroes in the business of making house calls now?"

"Hi to you too, Michelle." He sounded winded.

"Are you hurt?" she asked him point-blank. Her mind went through the possible injuries he could have right now. There was a first aid kit in her bathroom she'd reserved for this exact occasion. 

"No-not really, anyway. I got sprayed with something. Not toxic!" he rushed to placate her when she looked at him in alarm. "Just a bit dizzy, that's all. The effects are supposed to disappear in a few hours and well, I realised that I was in your neighbourhood and my place is a bit too far away for me to get to right now in my condition."

"How did you know where I live?"

"I followed you last time to make sure you went home safe."

That might have been true, but Peter had also come over to her place multiple times before. 

"Just crash here for the night," she said without thinking about it. "My parents never check up on me and tomorrow's Saturday, anyway."

Underneath the mask, she could tell Peter was hesitating. "Are you sure?"

"Just get in before I change my mind." Michelle opened the window wider and watched as he crawled inside. Then she went over to her bed and tossed one of her pillows on the floor and pulled a spare duvet out from her closet to join it.

Peter lay back on it gratefully, breathing hard as he did so.

Michelle frowned. "Isn't it hard to breathe under the-" she gestured at his suit.

"I can't take it off!" Peter said in a high-pitched voice, much louder than he should have. She shushed him, glancing nervously at her bedroom door. Her parents were heavy sleepers, but they still needed to be careful. She couldn't imagine they'd be pleased if they found out their daughter had invited the neighbourhood vigilante to stay over for the night.

"I'm not asking you to, you pervert," she hissed at him. "Just like, raise your mask or something."

"Raise my mask?"

She knew perfectly well what he was thinking. "So you can  _breathe._ "

Peter ducked his head, sheepish, and pulled the mask up over his mouth. Michelle focused on the Martin Luther King Jr. poster she had on the other side of the room.

"Thanks for letting me stay."

"It's fine," Michelle replied shortly, clambering onto her bed again. "Just don't stare at me while I'm sleeping."

Peter's laugh was strangled. "Yeah, of course."

They were silent after that.

Michelle tried to, but she couldn't sleep: she tossed and turned restlessly at the knowledge that Peter was practically lying next to her.

On the floor, sure, but still. 

"Um, Spider-Man?" There was no answer. 

Michelle stayed still for a moment, then gave up and peered over the bed. In the moonlight, she could see that the mask was still half-covering his face, but it must be proof that he really trusted her if he actually fell asleep. Or maybe he was just that tired.

She couldn't imagine how it exhausting it must be moonlighting as an Avenger.

"Spider-Man?" she called out again softly.

Still no answer. There was a spot of drool on the side of his mouth.

Definitely asleep.

Michelle listened to his steady breathing and watched his chest rise and fall at the motion.

 _Guess I'm the one being creepy_ , she thought, resisting the urge to scream into her pillow.

This whole thing was so stupid. She had no idea what she was doing, what she was feeling. This was something out of a cheesy romance novel. It wasn't her.

She needed to get over this, stat.

But she didn't know how.

Didn't know if she wanted to.

"God, I'm so pathetic," she heard herself say out loud, and before she could stop herself, she leaned over and pressed a kiss on Peter's forehead over his mask, just once right above where his eyebrow would've been.

 _Damnit._ Michelle fell back on her bed and stared at the ceiling.

It was a long time before she finally fell asleep and by the time she woke up, Peter was no longer there.


	4. Chapter 4

**Peter Parker 'Dweeb #1' 9:17AM** : hey are you free today?

 **Peter Parker 'Dweeb #1' 9:17AM** : also morning :)

 **Michelle Jones 'MJ' 9:19AM:**  smiley emojis before midday? you disgust me, parker

 **Peter Parker 'Dweeb #1' 9:19AM:** :(

 **Michelle Jones 'MJ' 9:20AM:**  loser

 **Michelle Jones 'MJ' 9:20AM:**  also in answer to your question, it depends

 **Peter Parker 'Dweeb #1' 9:22AM:** on?????

 **Michelle Jones 'MJ' 9:23AM:**  well, free to do what exactly? rob a bank? steal a car?

 **Michelle Jones 'MJ' 9:23AM:** bury a dead body?

 **Michelle Jones 'MJ' 9:23AM:** details are always appreciated

 ** **Peter Parker 'Dweeb #1'** 9:23AM: **um why is everything you just mentioned a felony?

 **Michelle Jones 'MJ' 9:24AM:** best to not ask any questions

 **Peter Parker 'Dweeb #1' 9:24AM:** OK ANYWAYSi want to take you somewhere

 **Peter Parker 'Dweeb #1' 9:24AM:** but it's a surprise 

 **Michelle Jones 'MJ' 9:25AM:** ah, the favourite words of a serial killer

 **Peter Parker 'Dweeb #1' 9:25AM** : mj

 **Michelle Jones 'MJ' 9:25AM:** IM JOKING sheesh 

 **Peter Parker 'Dweeb #1' 9:26AM:** so is that a yes?

 **Michelle Jones 'MJ' 9:26AM:** give me an hour and i'll meet you at your place

 **Peter Parker 'Dweeb #1' 9:27AM:** :D

 ** **Michelle Jones 'MJ' 9:28AM** :** loser

-

-

When in doubt regarding Parker, Michelle figured, call Leeds. After all, they were both two peas in a pod- one simply did not exist without the other.

Ned picked up on the second ring. "MJ? Wassup," he rasped out sleepily in greeting.

It was clear that Michelle had just woken him up, and she would have felt more bad about it if she didn't have a more pressing question on her mind.

"Hey," she started, and then paused. She wasn't quite sure how to start the conversation. "So, uh, Parker wants to hang out today."

"When did he say that?"

"He texted me a few minutes ago."

"Uh huh. Am I invited?"

"No."

Ned unsuccessfully stifled a yawn. "Then why are you calling? It's way too early for me to listen to you guys fawn over each other."

Michelle wished that Ned could see the glare she was giving her phone right now. As it were, she settled for letting out an indignant snort that indicated the extent of her disbelief. "When have I  _ever_ fawned over Parker?"

"Peter might be a little more obvious lately, but trust me, MJ, I can still read between the lines when it comes to you."

"Whatever," Michelle muttered, but she didn't deny it. It was much too early on a Saturday for her brain to conjure up a witty one-liner right now. Ugh, this was exactly why she avoided social interactions in the morning. Her reputation as being effortlessly sarcastic was going up in flames. "Do you happen to know where he might be taking me?"

"What makes you think I know?"

"Leeds, let's not do the back and forth thing where I interrogate you, and you eventually crumble under pressure. You two are basically the twins from  _The_   _Shining_ ,"Michelle said impatiently. "Don't tell me that you don't share the same entity, and that you don't know what Peter's doing at every moment of the day- I'm even prepared to bet that you have a diary of his whereabouts."

There was a pause as Ned ruminated over her words.

"...how do you know about the diary?"

Michelle's jaw dropped. "Wait, that's  _true?_ "

A longer pause.

"Um, no?" Ned said hesitantly. "Please don't tell Peter. I swear I'm not being weird, I'm keeping tabs on him for his benefit. Wait, shit. Crap. Can we pretend I didn't just say any of that?"

"Nope," Michelle replied, popping the 'p' at the end with satisfaction. "This is going right in my blackmail folder dedicated specially for you."

Ned groaned. "You're the actual definition of evil, you know that?"

"The devil has me on speed dial," Michelle told him blithley. "Now, let's get back on topic. Where's Peter taking me?"

"I can't tell you."

" _Leeds._ "

"Seriously, I can't!" Ned protested. "Peter knew you were going to ask me and I promised him that I wouldn't tell you anything. He's still mad at me for showing you those baby photos of him, you know."

Ah, yes. She'd teased Peter mercilessly when Ned presented her with the copies of the photos as her Christmas present. His parents, it turned out, were big fans of dressing up their son as characters in movies they enjoyed when he was a kid. The one of him in the famed Princess Leia costume that even she recognised was her favourite. Peter cringed every time he saw it.

Naturally, she kept that one on her dressing table in full display.

"You're really not going to give me anything?"

"He wants to surprise you," Ned replied helplessly.

Michelle clicked her tongue, annoyed. "I hate surprises."

"I know. I'm was there for your sixteenth birthday party, remember?"

"Oh, yeah."

They shared an uncomfortable laugh at the memory. It was one best to forget.

Michelle sighed. "I guess I'll go into this whole thing Peter has planned blind then. Thanks for nothing, doofus."

"Wait!" Ned burst out at the last moment before she could end the call. She paused, startled, and raised the phone to her ear again to hear him speak. "Since I have you on the phone, can I ask you something?"

Michelle's forehead crinkled in confusion. "Sure, shoot."

"You know I'm your friend too, right?"

"Yeah," Michelle confirmed carefully, a bit surprised. "Of course I know that."

"Good," Ned said awkwardly. "I just wanted to make sure you knew so you can, you know, talk to me whenever you feel like it. You've been acting differently lately."

Michelle felt a burst of fondness towards him. Ned was worried. About _her_. She knew that Ned and her would never have the same type of friendship he had with Peter, but the fact that he undoubtedly considered her a close friend made her feel grossly warm feelings. It was disgusting, how much she'd grown to carefor these two boys. 

Not that she'd ever tell  _them_ that.

"I'm fine," she assured him. "Really."

"If you're sure," Ned said uncertainly, not quite believing her. "Well, before you go, I guess there's  _one_ thing I can tell you about what Peter has planned."

Michelle perked up. "What?"

"You'll need comfortable shoes."

"That's it?"

"Yup."

"You have  _got_ to be kidding me."

-

-

Taking in Ned's suggestion, Michelle dressed casually in sneakers along with yoga pants and a black shirt. An elastic band was on her wrist in case she needed to tie her hair up. As usual, she didn't wear makeup because she was too lazy to go through the entire ordeal, but after a moment of hesitation before she left the house, Michelle spritzed a vanilla perfume tester she was given at the mall on her wrist and neck.

Only so she didn't smell bad, Michelle reasoned to herself. 

Michelle had just reached Peter's place when she noticed the limousine stationed outside the building. A broad-shouldered man in a suit was leaning against the front bumper, a tablet in his hand as he tapped away incessantly at it. She recognised him instantly as the man who used to often pick Peter up for his 'internship', which had long since ended. From what she could recall, his name was Happy or Sparky, or something to that effect. What was he doing here? It seemed unlikely that Peter had forgotten he had plans today with her an hour after making them. 

The man straightened up at the sight of her. "You're Michelle, aren't you? I'm Happy Hogan, Parker's...babysitter. Of sorts."

He offered her his hand to shake. She didn't take it.

Instead, Michelle narrowed her eyes at him. "How do you know my name?"

"Parker's mentioned you in passing," he said simply.

Michelle was still suspicious of him and the feeling increased when he nodded at the window of Peter's apartment. "Are you heading in?"

"Yes." Michelle was planning to brush past him and walk into the building but when she reached the steps, she turned around to look at Happy again. "Are you just here to stand creepily outside?"

Happy's answering smile was sardonic. "I would actually prefer to speak to Parker, but he hasn't been responding to my texts or calls."

"He's probably avoiding you," Michelle offered helpfully. 

Like most people, Happy was not amused by her. She'd never understood why.

Personally, she thought her brand of humour was excellent. Top of the field. Cream of the crop.

"Funnily enough, I've managed to deduce that for myself, Ms Jones. Tell the kid I'm here when you get up there, alright?"

Michelle refrained herself from deadpanning that she didn't take instructions if they didn't include the word  _please_. 

It took a lot of self-control, but she managed it.

Barely.

-

-

Michelle noted with mild trepidation that it was only after she yelled out that it was her that Peter finally opened the door.

"Hey, MJ."

She blinked. 

Peter was half-naked. Shirtless. There was entirely too much skin on display for her to process in front of her. The nightly rounds as Spider-Man had done fascinating things to his physique, she thought absently. Not that she was staring or anything. Just...observing. Objectively. Right.

"You shirt is missing," she reminded him, in case he forgot.

Peter looked slightly abashed as he looked down at himself. "I know. All my shirts are in the laundry. Gimme a sec-I'll go grab one that doesn't smell too bad."

"I always thought personal hygiene was overrated," Michelle remarked in a voice that didn't quite sound completely like herself as she closed the door behind her. The pitch was off. She coughed in an attempt to clear her throat.

The muscles on his back flexed as he walked into the other room, and she focused her attention elsewhere, anywhere. Her cheeks felt warm. Michelle hoped she wasn't blushing, but she probably was. Goddamnit. "Where's Aunt May?"

"Shopping. She won't be back until later tonight." Peter emerged again with a blue shirt with the line, ' _The name's Bond. Ionic Bond. Taken, not shared_ ' emblazoned across the front. Nerd. She watched him put it on with a peculiar combination of relief and disappointment. 

"Before I forget, you have a stalker outside."

Peter flashed her a confused look as he straightened out the wrinkles on his shirt and gave it a tentative sniff. "What?"

"Happy Hogan. He's out front at the moment. Says that you've been avoiding him."

"Oh."

The interjection was less than enthusiastic. Michelle observed his slumped shoulders. "You  _are_ avoiding him."

"Just for a while. I'm still trying to process...things."

Michelle made the decision to gloss over the subject and reserve it for another time when she saw that the mood had darkened considerably. 

"Alright. But you do realise that we're going to bump into him when we leave your place, right?"

Peter opened the window beside them, and swung one foot over the ledge. He grinned, purposeful. "You sure about that?"

Michelle took a step back, shaking her head at him as she realised where his line of thought was heading. "Nope.  _No way._  Parker, I still have the rest of my life to look forward to. Count me out. You're deranged if you think I'm going to exit your place through  _the window_  when there's a perfectly functioning door here."

"MJ, I do this all the time when I'm sneaking out of the house. It's really not that far up. As long as I'm here, it'll be safe," Peter insisted. 

Michelle eyed him sceptically. He  _was_ Spider-Man, she supposed. Climbing stealthily down buildings was probably nothing to him. But still. "Promise?"

He held a hand across his chest. "Cross my heart."

She sighed. "I'll probably regret saying yes, but how do we do this?"

"Easy. I'll carry you down with me. "

" _Carry me down?_ "

Peter was unfazed by her incredulous tone. "I'm stronger than I look. C'mon," he gestured her over.

Michelle more or less stormed up to him as she muttered obscenities under her breath. "If I end up as a sidewalk pancake, I'm coming back as a ghost to haunt you for the rest of your life, you hear me? The. Rest. Of. Your. Life." She hooked her arms around his neck and wrapped her legs on his waist, feeling not unlike a monkey hanging onto a tree.

"Not gonna happen," she heard his muffled reply in her hair.  

Michelle breathed in deeply at his shoulder. "You say that, but we're about to go down a building with you hanging onto basically nothing else but window ledges and I'm the idiot who just agreed to let you do it. Are you really that desperate to avoid Happy?"

"Pretty much. Ready?"

"I should be asking you that," Michelle countered nervously. "Seriously, don't drop me."

Michelle felt him grip her tighter. "I won't."

He exited the window with her holding onto him.  _Don't look down, don't look down, don't look down_. She squeezed her eyes shut, cringing. If she was going to die, she'd rather not witness the moment of impact. Peter let out a grunt, and she felt him grab the window ledge beside them. With her face pressed against his shirt, she couldn't see what he was doing, but she guessed that Peter had also intended this so she couldn't witness his abilities and question him.

No way would a normal boy be able to do what he was doing now; no way would a normal boy be  _stupid_ enough.

Only Peter.

After what felt like ages, Michelle heard a metal clang where Peter's feet had touched the ground. She extracted herself from Peter and saw that they had landed on top of a - thankfully - closed dumpster, intact and more importantly, alive.

"So," Peter began, only slightly breathless as if he did not just scale down a building into the alleyway to avoid confronting one person, "ready for what I have planned today?"

Michelle shook her head, amazed at the sheer normalcy in which he'd responded to what he just did. 

"Not even a bit," she told him grimly, but she still followed him as they snuck out into the street and slipped away from Happy who was none-the-wiser.

It was going to be a long day.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure when the next update will be because my workload has just exploded spectacularly, but feel free to follow my new tumblr [here](http://intrepidment.tumblr.com/). I can't promise quality content but. Well, I don't know what I'm promising, really, but I'll take questions and prompts to write short fics for in-between updates. Comment me your hopes, your dreams- all Marvel and ship-related of course. I'm not qualified for anything beyond that.


	5. Chapter 5

They ended up taking a train and leaving the city.

Their carriage was currently empty, aside from a homeless man who was napping across from them. Skyscrapers and apartment buildings rushed by in brief flashes when she glanced outside the window.

All things considered, it was a beautiful day: the sky was a clear cerulean blue, and there wasn't a single cloud to be seen.

Michelle was reading the autobiography of Malcolm X she'd brought with her, but her attention kept straying from the words on the page. After re-reading the same sentence for the fifth time, Michelle closed the book with a resigned huff. Clearly, she wasn't going to get through the book. Not today, anyway. Her concentration had short-circuited on her.

Book slumps were the absolute  _worst_ , in her opinion _._ Sometimes it only took days before her interest reignited. Once, it took a full month before she was able to finish the entirety of a book. Maybe she'd need to borrow some different genres from the library. Expand her literary horizons a little bit.  

Michelle felt the sudden tell-tale feeling of being observed by someone else and sure enough, Peter was looking in her direction. How long he'd been looking before she noticed, she didn't know. "What? Do I have something on my face?"

Peter shook his head, smiling. "No. I was just thinking that you look nice today."

Another girl would have blushed at that, but Michelle squirmed a bit, unnerved at the compliment. She looked the same as she always did. "Okay, weirdo."

His smile faded a bit, perhaps sensing her discomfort. "Seriously, MJ. You look nice."

"Are you saying that I look terrible every other day?" Michelle asked him with a raised brow.

"No!" he exclaimed vehemently. "You  _always_  look nice. But today you look nice...er?" Peter grimaced, no doubt horrified at his own conversational skills. 

Out of pity, Michelle changed the topic before he put his foot in his mouth any further. "So, how far is this place we're going anyway?" 

Peter looked relieved at their silent agreement to ignore everything he just said. "Around another two hours."

Michelle punched his arm in response. "C'mon, Parker. You have to give me a hint at least."

"A hint?"

" _Yes_ , a hint. A clue. A pointer." Michelle fixed him with a droll look. "Do you need more synonyms to help explain this basic elementary word?"

Peter was amused. "I'm good. Okay, I'll let you ask five questions."

"Why only five?"

"Any more than that, and you'll probably figure it out."

"True," she conceded thoughtfully. Smart boy. Michelle considered her first question. "Well, Leeds said that I'd need comfortable shoes for wherever you're taking me so can I assume that we'll be spending the day outside?"

Peter nodded. "That's one."

"Will we be walking around a lot?"

"Yes."

"Running?"

"Unlikely...unless it becomes likely."

"Well,  _that_  sounds promising."

Michelle stood up, pacing the length of the carriage lost in thought while Peter looked on. "Are we going somewhere with a lot of water?"

"We're not going to the beach, if that's what you're thinking. I would've told you to bring a swimsuit, if we were."

"Who knows, maybe you wanted us to go skinny dipping in a big abandoned lake somewhere."

Peter's face went an interesting shade of red. "No water."

Walking. Outside, no water. Not a beach. The last one was a relief, truth be told. She never got the appeal of going to the beach- relaxing aside, all you got out of it was an abundance of sweaty half-naked bodies walking around, and sand in inconvenient places for days afterwards. "Any climbing involved?"

"That's five questions, and nope. Probably a good thing too after what happened earlier."

"Thank you," she told him with a dramatic sigh of relief. "From the bottom of my heart,  _thank you._ "

"You're welcome," Peter responded dutifully. "So, any idea about where we're going now?"

Michelle waved him off. "Not the location, but I just figured out what we'll be doing."

He waited.

"And?" Peter prompted. "What is it?"

Michelle held a finger to her lip in the universal 'shh' gesture. "It's a surprise," she said loftily. "Remember"?

Peter let out an exaggerated groan and buried his face in his hands. "Should've expected that."

Michelle ruffled his hair playfully, made it messier than it already was. "You really should've."

-

-

Three quarters into the ride and in the midst of a particularly enlightening discussion about  _The Hunger Games_ and it's criticism of popular media (the commercialisation of the love triangle in real life that Collins actively critiqued in the novels was something Michelle never quite got over, ugh), the train came to a stop at a station where a flood of people poured through the open doors.

Michelle was already standing so she grabbed onto the nearest pole in front of her to avoid being trampled on while Peter stood up when he saw an elderly woman hobbling in with a cane on her hip. "This seat is free."

"Are you sure?" The elderly woman asked worriedly. "I don't want to be a bother-"

"No, no, it's fine," he assured her. "I was going to join my friend over there, anyway."

"You're too kind."

Peter beamed, his teeth peeking through, and Michelle could see the moment the woman melted at his sincerity.

He made his way towards her through the crowd once he helped the woman sit down and she finished thanking him profusely. "Just happy to be of assistance," he told her, his words unconsciously reminiscent of what Spider-Man would say. 

Even when he wasn't Spider-Man, he was a hero in his own small way, Michelle noticed. Of course, giving up your seat for someone else who needed it more was common courtesy, and it probably said more about New York sensibilities as a whole than anything else that she was so impressed by it.

But Peter had never needed these small acts of kindness to be acknowledged.

She suspected that even if Spider-Man wasn't a household name, he would still risk his life for the city.

That's simply the type of person Peter was, Michelle had come to realise over the years.

He didn't need fame, or adulation, or a legion of over-obsessive fans tracking his every move. Peter just wanted to help people; make a difference in a world that was strife with daily issues. He never gave up, even when everything seemed at its worst.

He persevered with his unending, unrelenting sense of hope. Hope in the good guys. 

Hope in humanity. 

And that, Michelle knew unequivocally, was why she admired him so much. One of the reasons, anyway. There were many reasons. Too many.

More than she'd care to admit to. 

Peter gripped the same pole she was hanging onto and leaned his back against the train door, breaking her train of thought which had taken a turn to the mushy, pensive kind she normally actively avoided. "I was hoping that since we missed peak hour that there wouldn't be a crowd."

"Never assume that," Michelle told him. Peter laughed a little, but pressed himself closer to the train door, his breath just a little uneven. It was a small reaction, but she noticed it. Michelle frowned. "I forgot. You don't like crowds, do you?"

"How did you know that?" Peter was surprised. 

Michelle shrugged. "I just do."

She didn't add that she also knew that he had an aversion to enclosed spaces. Documentaries on earthquakes where buildings collapsed and people became trapped under rubble. Unexpected flashes of light in a dark place. 

She knew all of his fears. Or at the very least, she knew most of them.

As Michelle had once told everyone, she was observant.

She'd watched in the sidelines when he had panic attacks and made sure Ned or Aunt May was nearby so it didn't get out of hand. She listened, discreetly, when Peter recounted his nightmares to Ned, how terrible and ugly they were, and how they kept him up at night.

The fears Peter had were the consequences of being a hero. Being Spider-Man.

The aftermath of being an active participant in a war.

Michelle wasn't good at providing words of comfort and offering sage advice at the right moment, but it was a skill she was willing to learn.

If he let her.

And that was the problem, wasn't it? 

_If._

"You seem distracted."

Michelle startled. "Yeah, I guess I am."

"Anything I can help with?" Peter offered.

She regarded him carefully. "Not right now, no."

"Alright."

Peter kept looking at her with an unreadable expression and as the moment passed into minutes, she raised her hand and covered his eyes because it was getting too much for her to handle.

Instinctively, he tried to shake her off, but she clamped on tighter. "MJ, I can't see."

"That's sort of the  _point_ , dummy. Would you quit staring?"

"I heard that eye contact is a good trait to have."

"Not when nobody's talking, it isn't."

"Sorry. Can you lower your hand now?"

She lowered it. 

"Why don't you like it when I look at you?" Peter sounded genuinely curious. 

"I tend to dislike it when anyone looks at me for a prolonged moment without reason," she said dryly. 

"You never minded when Harry did it," Peter mumbled.

Michelle gaped at him because  _what the actual fuck._ That just came from out of the blue. "First of all,  _yes_ , I definitely minded or did you forget the time I referred to him as actual scum on Earth, and two, let's be real, Osborn is a creep do you really want to be lumped in the same group as him?"

"I guess not," he said reluctantly. "But I can't help it. I just,  _like_  looking at you," Peter finished lamely. 

"You're so weird," she told him, for lack of anything better to say. What could she say?

_I like looking at you too?_

No way.

Someone would have to ply her with truth serum before the words left her mouth. 

"So are you," Peter pointed out with a half-smile. "Michelle-I-Draw-People-Who-Are-Suffering-Jones."

Michelle rolled her eyes. "Lucky us. We're both weirdos."

"Lucky," Peter echoed. His eyes were tracing her face again with the same inscrutable gaze.  

She didn't stop him this time.

Only because she was too busy reading the information plaque above them and couldn't be bothered. 

-

-

After they reached their stop, Peter led them to their location.

The words  _Blue Mountain Reservation_ was written in bright yellow paint on a wooden sign. A forest of oak and beech trees towered ahead of them, green, and large, and majestic. She could hear the distinct sound of a river flowing in the distance. Bird cooed merrily.

It was like something out a Disney nature pamphlet.

Michelle was pleased.

"Hiking, I knewit!" Michelle looked over at Peter. "Also there  _is_ water here. And you know there are other hiking trails that would have been easier to get to, right?"

"We're not swimming though," Peter insisted. "And yeah, I know. But I used to come here with Uncle Ben."

"Oh." Michelle was quiet. Peter rarely talked about Uncle Ben and on the occasions that he did, there was always an undercurrent of sadness and some other strange emotion that ran through his words. She never pressed him on it, in spite of her curiousity. "Have you been back here a lot since?"

"Not too much, but I try to when I have the time." Peter added, almost bashfully, "You're the first person I've invited with me." 

"Ever?"

"Ever."

Michelle smiled, slow and soft - the kind of smile she reserved only for rare occasions - and strolled ahead of him. "Let's go in then."

When she noticed that Peter was hurrying to match her pace, she slowed down, allowing him to keep up.

"Don't worry," she teased him with an upturned quirk in the corner of her lip, "I'll keep in mind that you short folk need us to walk slow."

"Oh, shut up," Peter groused at her, but he was wearing the Michelle Look in full force, so she knew he didn't mean it.

-

-

The thing about hiking was that aside from walking, there wasn't much to do besides taking in their surroundings in silence or talking to each other. 

For a while, both of them were content with the silence. It wasn't an awkward silence, but rather a comfortable one. The sort of silence that came only after knowing someone for a long time and being happy to just bask in their company. Michelle surveyed the scenery and breathed in the fresh air, noting how different even the air was out here.

Their arms knocked together as they walked leisurely onwards, but neither one of them made a move to pull away.

Around two miles in, Peter uttered with some surprise, "You're good at this."

"Walking?" Michelle questioned witheringly. "Yes, I've been doing it since I was like, two, isn't that amazing?"

"You know what I mean. I've never even seen you participate in gym properly, aside from using books as weights. It's a wonder you haven't asked to go back yet."

"My laziness is a choice," Michelle said blandly. "I can stand upright for more than a few minutes given the right conditions."

"And these are the right conditions?"

"I'm still here, aren't I?"

"I'm grateful you chose today as one of those times then," Peter said, grinning.

Michelle looked at the ground, mindful of where she was walking. Leaves crunched under her feet, and her curly hair fell over her face, covering her expression from him as she formulated a response.

She settled on three words.

"So am I."

-

-

"When did Uncle Ben first take you here, anyway?" Michelle asked as they navigated their way up a rocky hill. She was beginning to feel tired, but not so much that she needed a rest yet.

Peter thought about it. "Right after my parents died."

"Huh. That's not strange at all."

"Yeah, I was weirded out as well. I complained the entire ride here. Cried a little too, if I remember correctly."

"Can't say that I'm surprised, Parker."

"Har-har. As crazy as it sounds, I think a part of me believed he was planning to dump me here and leave, like that fairytale."

"...Hansel and Gretel? The Brothers Grimm version?"

"Yeah, that one. He didn't, of course. He just wanted to give me an opportunity to get away from it all- the funeral preparations, the condolences from people I barely knew. At least for a little while. It helped, a bit. Being here was the first time I could finally think properly since the accident."

Michelle asked, lightly, "What did you think about?"

"How lucky I was to still have Uncle Ben and Aunt May by my side."

She hesitated. "It must have been hard, losing him. Uncle Ben, I mean."

"It was. I still have Aunt May though."

"And me," she added before she could silence herself. "Us. You still have Ned and I. And, uh, the decathlon team. To a lesser extent."

"Yeah, I still have you guys. Don't really care about Flash though."

Michelle snorted. "Excluding Flash sort of went without saying, obviously."

-

-

A few times, Peter seemed on the verge of saying something, but changed his mind at the last minute. 

"Hey MJ," he started each time in a resolute voice.

"What is it?" Michelle asked him once in the midst of finishing off a pb&j sandwich Aunt May had packed for them.

Peter shook his head, looking away. "Nevermind."

-

-

They stopped for a bit when they stumbled across a drinking fountain to refill their water bottles. 

"MJ, what are your plans after graduation?"

"I think I might take a gap year. Travel a bit, maybe join a volunteer group." The idea had been lingering in her mind for a while now. 

"That sounds cool. And after? What do you want to major in?"

"English literature, most likely," she mused. "There's still a little time for us to think about it though."

Peter took a long swig of water from his bottle. "I guess," he said finally.

"What about you?" Michelle asked. "What do  _you_ want to do after we graduate?"

"You know, I used to think I knew exactly what I wanted to do but these days," he shrugged uncertainly, "these days, I'm not so sure."

Michelle gave his shoulder a brief nudge. "Like I said; there's still time," she insisted.

Peter still looked dubious.

-

-

When Michelle and Peter finally reached the peak of the reserve, there was nobody around but them.

She supposed the cliché phrase really did apply here: everything looked so much smaller from above. All she could see in front of them was blue skies, an abundance of greenery, and clear waterfalls and lakes. A scene sourced directly from  _Planet Earth._  She wanted to build a lodge here, and stay forever, away from civilization. 

"This place is amazing," Michelle admitted when she could speak. It wasn't often that a landscape rendered her speechless. "It sort of takes my breath away, you know?"

Peter was looking straight at her when he answered. 

"Yeah. I know exactly what you mean."

It was getting late, so after admiring the scenery for a few more minutes, they decided to make their way back before it got too dark, trudging carefully to avoid slipping on any rocks or uneven surfaces. It wasn't until now that she realised how far they'd walked today.

They were just about to reach the entrance when Peter came to a complete halt.

"MJ?"

Michelle turned around, confused. "Yeah? We're going to miss our train if we don't hurry up."

"There's something I need to tell you."

She was too busy checking the time, so the words didn't register properly to what he was about to say. "Well, hurry up and spit it out then."

Peter took a deep breath.

"I'm Spider-Man," he said, and before she could react to the fact that the secret was finally out, he added drily, "But you already knew that, didn't you?"  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually have zero clue as to the topography of the Blue Mountain Reservation since I've never been there. So if you've actually visited the place, and are currently cursing me for bastardising it, I'm sorry, forgive me? Also thank you for indulging me with kudos' and comments, it warms my lil' grinch heart.


End file.
